


right between the shoulder blades

by noobishere



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7142966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noobishere/pseuds/noobishere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s only been a few months since he moved here but he’s already constructed a well balanced, familiar routine into his adulthood. Although the guy manning the till is fairly new and is yet to get a nametag, judging by his still bare breast pocket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	right between the shoulder blades

**Author's Note:**

> written for kageyama rare pair week, day 3: aged up characters and working au 
> 
> (i'm a day late tho)

  


  


Walking back home, Akaashi sees the familiar nondescript konbini near his apartment building. The mechanical chime greets him as usual when he steps into the air-conditioned store; the same middle-aged man he sees every other day in front of the pachinko, and a few high school kids milling about at the gatcha roll.

It’s only been a few months since he moved here but he’s already constructed a well balanced, familiar routine into his adulthood. Although the guy manning the till is fairly new and is yet to get a nametag, judging by his still bare breast pocket.

For the past week, Akaashi has been avoiding eye contact just because it seems like the new guy takes personal offence in the entire existence of the human race itself, with the way his face is contorted into a perpetual scowl — Akaashi’s seen children cry just paying for an ice-lolly. He hasn’t had any problems (yet) with the new cashier but he tends to make his trips as brief as he possibly can.

It was on his fourth visit to the store when he makes conversation. Well, it was actually more an inquiry than anything else because the new guy was scanning his purchase as usual when Akaashi noticed he was clutching onto the brand new knee pads so hard the plastic wrapping ripped open.

“Are you okay?”

New guy blinked a few times before he broke eye contact with the mauled knee pads and stared at Akaashi with wide eyes. Akaashi was sure he saw the guy’s eyes sparkle before he glanced sideways and answered briskly, “Yes, fine,” and continued scanning his purchase.

It kinda felt like Akaashi had personally offended the guy by asking that with the way he’d shoved everything into his grocery bag, but then he paused and looked up. Unsure.

“Do you —”

Akaashi was surprised to say the least, not by how he’d been directly addressed but more the fact that the other was stuttering and obviously flustered. He raised a brow in question, silently asking him to continue.

“I can replace the knee pads with a brand new one,” he’d said in a rush, and then adds tentatively, “…if you want.”

Akaashi had been caught completely off guard, so he couldn’t help how he was chuckling under his breath, but it earned him a frown from the new cashier. He smiled as he paid and took his bag, that same frown directed at him the whole time, and it only deepened when he assures. “It’ fine, really.”

The new guy seemed ready to protest, but he clamped his mouth shut as he punched in the numbers on the till and handed over his change with a grumbled, “Here’s your change. Thank you for your purchase.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a pleasant smile.

Predictably, the guy bristled and that day Akaashi left the store with an extra spring in his steps.

It’s been a week since then, and that extra spring is definitely not there as Akaashi half dreads the reaction he’ll get from the guy. He tries to rationalise with himself that he probably doesn’t even remember him, but on the off chance that he does, Akaashi doesn’t know what to do. 

He’s definitely pissed the guy off that time, and although he doesn’t mean it most of the time, he’s been told that he has a natural talent for rubbing people off the wrong way.

  


(“It’s worse cos you don’t even do it on purpose!”

That was Bokuto, always complaining to Akaashi about, well, Akaashi. 

“Uncannily stoic,” is what Kuroo would always say, nodding in approval every time he, unintentionally or otherwise, provokes someone.)

  


Luckily for him, there’s a queue of customers at the till, so the cashier has his hands full and doesn’t notice him. Akaashi goes over his short grocery list aisle by aisle and finds himself staring at the different brands of canned tuna when he notices that one of the high school kids had deviated from his group of friends and is eyeing up a shelf of sweets. 

At first, he doesn’t think much of it, but then he sees a glimpse of a shiny red wrapper peeking out of the boy’s pocket before he shoves his hand into it and strolls away. 

Sighing, Akaashi puts down the can he’s been holding onto and makes to follow the boy, but then the scanner at the entrance goes off and before he knows it, he’s running after him. In his working suit. He curses himself and all the existing gods he knows of, when he hears a booming—

“WAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIITTTT”

—and as he vaguely registers that to be the cashier’s voice, he sees something zooming past him in a flurry and hits the boy right between his shoulder blades, the impact knocking him to the ground. Akaashi skids to a stop, doubling over bent knees, when he see sees neon yellow paint splattered over the area where the boy was hit by, apparently, a paintball.

Now that crisis is averted, he checks to see if the boy is trying to make any moves of escaping again.

“You okay?” His voice is still ragged from the running. He gets a pained whimper in return and shakes his head. “Don’t try to run again,” he warns. Mostly because he doesn’t want to be subjected to anymore unnecessary running and stress when he’s just trying to buy food. He gets another pathetic moan at that, and concludes that the boy is well and truly done for.

He’s proven right when he hears a furious “You little shit!” from the cashier, who’s stomping over with his sleeves rolled up, looking ready for a punch or two to the boy’s head.

Akaashi sighs, intervening, bodily blocking him from the boy. “Look,” he reasons, “you got him good with that paintball. He’s not going anywhere.” The cashier bites his lip, hands clutched into fists as he considers this. He concedes with a rather vicious click of the tongue. “Fine. But he’s coming with me,” he says, brushing past him to get to the boy who’s now sitting in the middle of the walk way, dogeza style.

“Up,” he commands. Naturally, the boy does as he’s told, his head hanging between his slumped shoulders as he follows the cashier back to the store with Akaashi quietly trailing behind them.

When they get back there, the store is empty save for a stern looking man in an apron, with his blond hair pushed back by a thin headband and his arms crossed. Akaashi notes the two earrings on his one ear at the same time he reads the ‘manager’ on the man’s nametag, and prays silently for the boy’s fate.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is for the man to hit the cashier square on the head with his balled knuckles.

“Stop tryna play cool, Kageyama.”

The cashier — Kageyama — scowls, rubbing his head. There’s a tint of pink on his cheeks but it is so slight Akaashi thinks he might be imagining it. “But Ukai-san, this kid tried to steal something.”

With an exasperated sigh, Ukai tilts his head to address the boy. “What’d you take, kid?”

When the boy meekly mumbles ‘chocolate,’ both Akaashi and Ukai heave a long sigh at all the trouble this has caused. 

“See,” Ukai says to Kageyama, “it’s just a fucking chocolate bar, Kageyama. Stop with that face.”

Kageyama grumbles something under his breath, but Ukai ignores him in favour of reprimanding the boy. “Look, kid. You either pay for that, or you put it back, okay,” to which the boy nods his head vigorously, probably as eager as everyone involved to end this mess quickly. Shaking his head and sighing again, Ukai flicks the boy lightly on the forehead and shoos him and Kageyama away.

Akaashi watches as Kageyama stomps his way behind the counter when he hears a sheepish, “Sorry about that,” and turns to see Ukai rubbing the back of his neck. “And thanks, for going after the kid. You didn’t have to.”

He holds up a hand. “It’s fine. My body just moved of its own accord.”

Ukai stares at him incredulously and then he bursts out with a raucous laugh. “Oh man, you’re so proper. No wonder he likes you.”

It takes a while before his brain fully processes what the other just said, and when it does, he’s even more confused. He doesn’t get to ask for an explanation though, because Ukai is already making his way to the back of the store.

“Kageyama’s a good guy. A bit intense sometimes, but a good guy,” he calls out, good-naturedly.

Akaashi stands there for a solid minute, only snapping out of his stupor when the boy mumbles a quick apology to him and the store before scurrying away like a frightened cat. He looks around the space, trying to figure out the next step: Should he go back to his list or should he try another day? 

He makes his decision when he remembers he doesn’t have anything at home that can feed him for the night, so he goes back to the aisle where he left his basket and goes back to picking which brand of canned tuna he wants to try this time.

Ten minutes later, he’s checking out. He watches the way Kageyama handles his purchase, sliding them over the scanner and packing them into his grocery bag; it goes on and on for as long as his short list goes, until Kageyama rattles off his total amount in staccato.

He should pay and leave, as usual, but he doesn’t. It has already been an unusual day, anyway.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

Judging by the speed with which Kageyama looks up at him, he hadn’t expected that question at all. Then his face scrunches up into a frown. “I’m fine,” he says, matter of fact, but his voice tilted right at the end, into a question.

Not wanting to offend the other like he did the week before, he supresses a laugh by clearing his throat. “I mean, with your manager,” he says slowly, not unlike how he would to a confused child. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh.” Kageyama shrugs. “It’s fine, Ukai-san doesn’t really have anyone else to help him out so he can’t fire me.”

Like it’s no big deal, catching a thief during his shift. 

This time Akaashi does let out a soft snort, eliciting a questioning look from the other as he shakes his head in exasperation.

“You have a really good aim, by the way,” he opts to say that instead. It’s true, Kageyama has a really good aim and if it weren’t for the crisis at hand, Akaashi would have taken a longer time being impressed by it. So he’s making amends. “With the paintball, I mean.”

Literally, his entire face lights up at the compliment, and Akaashi knows he hadn’t been imagining it last week, because those eyes _are_ sparkling. It’s a bit endearing. “Thanks,” Kageyama says, “I play volleyball so I got it from there, I think.”

At the mention of volleyball, Akaashi immediately perks up. “You play volleyball too,” he says, delighted.

Kageyama’s eyes widen. “The knee pads,” he recounts slowly. “You play too?!”

Akaashi nods, a small smile pulling at his lips at how excited Kageyama is. “Do you want to play together, sometimes?” he asks.

Kageyama freezes at that. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing at all, and Akaashi worries if he might have pushed too much when they don’t even know each other that well. Heck, he only knew Kageyama’s name today and he’s pretty sure the guy doesn’t even know _his_ name.

But his worries were for naught because Kageyama is looking at him with open wonder and he might be imagining it but the sparkling eyes seem to have intensified. He understands what Ukai had meant by _‘a bit intense sometimes,’_ because right now it feels like he’s holding Kageyama’s heart right in his palm and he’s not yet ready for that responsibility.

Which is ridiculous, because they’re only talking about the possibility of playing volleyball together, and maybe possibly hang out, after. Or some other time. Maybe.

Right when Akaashi feels like taking back the offer and bolting out of there, Kageyama looks away and mumbles his reply. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Not wanting to prolong this anymore, Akaashi abruptly pulls out his wallet to pay for his groceries, which then helps in reminding Kageyama too that they’re both in the middle of a transaction, as the other stands up straighter and readies himself with the till.

When their fingers inevitably brush, Akaashi makes sure not to let it show on his face how he’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He definitely needs to keep his cool if Kageyama is already visibly losing it. Clearing his throat and the impossibly thick air around them, Akaashi grabs his bag off the counter and gives a small nod to Kageyama.

“Well,” he says. “I’ll see you soon, Kageyama.” 

Kageyama starts at his name, but nods in reply nonetheless. 

Akaashi makes to leave but stops short at the entrance, remembering one last thing. He gives Kageyama a small smile as he tells him, “My name’s Akaashi, by the way.” And he is definitely not imagining the blush on Kageyama’s face, so he quickly flees before he does or says anything stupid. He’ll have to deal with this later, when he has to go back there to stock up for food again, but right now he needs to go home, eat, and pretend his life isn’t going to change in the near future.

  


_No wonder he likes you_

  


He rubs a hand down his face, groaning when he realises it’s unbearably warm.

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> some konbinis have paintballs (just the ball full of paint not the gun) underneath the counter for the workers to tag burglars with, in case of robbery. so yeah.. don't steal, kids.


End file.
